


welcome to the family, pal

by amazingsantiago



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Baby Fic, F/M, Fluff, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23814379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingsantiago/pseuds/amazingsantiago
Summary: a drabble and one-shot collection ft. the littlest peralta (spoilers for 7x13)
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 11
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: This is a work of fiction, based on a fictional show. This does not represent my views on real police officers. I am disgusted with the systematic racism towards black people in policing in my own country and in the US. Black Lives Matter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> picking his name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm still shaking after the episode so this is short and sweet but i hope you still love it!!!
> 
> (i may have to come back and edit in 3 to 5 business days when i have recovered from that episode and can think a little more clearly about stuff like grammar and not jake and amy's son's beautiful eyes and chubby cheeks)

It’s a Friday night, so they’re watching _Die Hard_.

It’s just like a thousand Friday nights they’ve had before and it will be like a thousand to come, yet this Friday is different, because they just found out they were having a son.

Of course, it didn’t go to plan - nothing ever seems to; what with Roger knocking over the sex reveal cake and Jake finding out before her and the green cake and and Roger cutting off his _other_ thumb and the back-up cake going missing and finally finding out the sex via frosting around Scully’s mouth.

(She never thought she’d say this but _thank God_ he’s a messy eater).

She rests her hand against her growing bump, imagining a mini-Jake inside of her with dark, messy curls and an obsession with plaid shirts and sneakers and that smile that makes her melt.

“Welcome to the party, pal,” Jake and an on-screen McClane say at the same time.

She used to think him quoting the entire movie was annoying, but now, like everything Jake Peralta does, she finds it impossibly cute.

Their son kicks against her hand.

And, like a metaphorical light-bulb illuminating above her head, Amy knows what she wants to name him.

She pauses the movie, ignoring Jake’s protesting “HEY!”, and turns to him, her mouth twisting into a smile.

“Mac.”

“What?” He furrows his brow, not following. He glances back to the frozen TV screen and she knows he’s thinking that this is his favourite part.

She grabs his hand and places it next to hers on her bump.

Baby Peralta continues kicking up a storm.

“We should name him Mac,” she says more clearly. “Short for McClane.”

He gasps then his face breaks into a massive smile. “Really? You’d be willing to give our son a _Die Hard_ name?”

“He’s already a fan, judging by all the kicking. And it’s kinda different, yet still cute. And he’s named after the man who made you become a cop, eventually leading you to me.”

“It’s perfect,” he agrees, kissing her. He pulls away suddenly, a wide-eyed look on his face. “When he’s born we can say _Welcome to the family, pal_!”

She half-laughs, half-cries. “We’re going to be a family,” she says in awe, letting tears roll down her cheeks.

“ _We’re going to be a family_.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jake and amy drive the littlest peralta home for the very first time

He nervously taps his hands against the steering wheel, fiddles with the mirrors and lowers the window, despite the cool October air sending a shiver through his body. 

He’s driven this route a million times over - their apartment to the hospital and the hospital back to their apartment. From the early days of their partnership, taking Amy home after she fell and sprained her wrist in pursuit of a perp, to their anniversary last year, holding hands over the central console and discussing their Thai take-out order, to a couple of months back, touring the maternity ward; he knows every pot hole, left turn and shortcut to avoid the crazy New York traffic. But he’s never driven it with a  _baby_ before. His perfect, day-old, liquid fire baby. It’s a lot of presh. 

He glances at Amy over his shoulder, quadruple checking that Mac’s car seat is secure. She kisses his chubby cheeks and shuts the passenger door, climbing in the front with Jake. 

She grimaces in pain as she settles into the seat. 

“Still sore?” He asks, even though he already knows the answer. He saw Page 53 with his own eyes. 

“Mm-hmm,” she confirms half-heartedly, trying not to complain. Not after they waited so long for this moment. Not after all the vitamins and overly-scheduled sex and nights spent crying into his chest. She’s already told him she’d go through the pain - both physical and mental - all over again to end up with this outcome, to end up with Mac. 

(“I could’ve done without having to run an entire precinct on my own during a citywide blackout while in labor, mind,” she added, making him laugh.) 

“You’re a freakin’ hero. You did so good, Ames.”

She blushes under his complement and double-tucks and  _yeah_ , that still sends his heart into overdrive. 

“As soon as my Paternity Leave is up, I’m recommending you for a Medal of Valor. As is Holt. As is Terry. As is Rosa. As is Charles. Hitchcock and Scully still think they saved the precinct by emptying the fridge, but I’ll just forge their signatures or something. You deserve this.” 

Mac makes a noise of agreement in the backseat or maybe it’s more of a “hurry up and get home so I can get out of this car seat” kind of thing, but either way, Jake starts the engine. 

“I love you so much,” Amy says, her eyes filling with tears. 

“Love you so much too,” he responds easily. He can’t believe he ever struggled to say those words, the way it comes so naturally now. He tells her he loves her all the time - at the end of phone calls, on post-it notes stuck on the fridge, in work emails attached to information on a case, at home, when she brings him a coffee or pretends to care about Mario Party, when she wears one of his plaid shirts or on Thursdays when she goes over their weekly budget, her tongue sticking out her mouth in concentration. His heart feels so full, yet his love for her only seems to grow and grow. 

His love for the little guy, too. 

Every look, every tiny whimper, every time he clenches Jake’s finger in his fist. He may have his dad’s face, but he has certainly inherited Amy Santiago’s incredible everything else. 

He goes to press his foot on the gas, but his muscles atrophy, refusing to let him move the metal death-trap and endanger his newest best friend. 

He takes a deep breath, reassures himself that it will be fine, that people safely take their babies home from hospital all the time, that they specifically bought this car because of its safety features, and tries again. 

Nope. 

His leg won’t move. 

His brain runs wild with everything that could go wrong. He could fall asleep at the wheel, crash, and die. A drunk driver could swerve towards them, crash, and die. The engine could blow up, causing them to crash, and die. 

“Jake, let’s go,” Amy prompts, already missing the weight of their son in her arms. 

“I’m scared,” he confesses, eyes squeezed tightly shut. “What if something happens? What if I suddenly forget how to drive? What if the car spontaneously explodes?” 

“This isn’t _Fast and Furious_ , Jake. There will be no explosions. We’re just taking our son home.”

“We have so many arch nemeses that might want to hurt him,” he frets. They’ve collectively put away hundreds and hundreds of criminals and the list of those wanting to get back at them is long. 

“Then they’ll take one look at his adorable face and change their mind. Come on, if I can push this massive baby out, you can do the 15 minute drive home.” 

He nods quickly, looks at Mac one last time, and gently presses the accelerator. _For his wife_. 

He drives at like 20 mph, earning himself a lot of honking horns, middle fingers and shouted curse words in thick New York accents from the queue of cars behind. 

“You alright there, Peralta?” She says as he stops at a red light, raising her eyebrows. “You never drive this slow.” 

“Got precious cargo in the back,” he explains. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white. His eyes are all over the place, his detective intuition seeking out any potential threats. His heart beats faster and faster. 

Amy leans over the central console and kisses him tenderly. 

It helps. 

There’s an angry honk behind them when they miss the light change and he holds his hand up in apology, setting off at a snail’s pace once more. 

He stops at 8 more lights, earning a kiss for every block closer to home. 

When they finally reach the apartment and he switches off the engine, he leans his head back against the seat, releasing a shuddering breath. “That was the most stressful thing I’ve ever done. And I had to use a prison shower.”

“You’re a freakin’ hero and you did so good,” she repeats his words from before. 

He shakes his head. “Driving has got nothing on Page 53, babe.”

“Yeah, you’re right, Page 53 was not fun.” She scrunches up her nose at the memory. “Help me out?”

“Of course, m’lady,” he grins, jumping out of his side and jogging to her door, wrapping his arm around her torso and helping her up. 

Amy gets Mac, delighting in the way his eyes light up when he sees her and Jake gets the bags and Baby Boy balloons and locks up the car, following them to the apartment door. 

First big dad challenge, nailed. 

Maybe he can do this after all.

**Author's Note:**

> my first of many mac peralta fics!!! love u already kid
> 
> kudos/comments mean the world


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